


open up my ribcage

by nightsolong



Category: Bates Motel (2013)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, F/M, Fluff, Normero, alex keeps getting his ass kicked, norma secretly loves it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 06:56:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11374935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightsolong/pseuds/nightsolong
Summary: Norma holds him close, supporting him with a touch so gentle he feels as if he might break. It occurs to Alex then that he is utterly weak, more so in this moment than he has ever been before. But somehow he does not feel vulnerable. If anything, he feels strong.or: alex makes a habit of getting injured on the job. norma makes a habit of cleaning him up afterward.





	open up my ribcage

**Author's Note:**

> normero fluff - or at least, I think it's fluff. can anything truly be fluffy with an ending as tragic as theirs?
> 
> title: ribcage by mary lambert and angel haze.

**one.**

 

The first time it happens, it’s all his fault.

 

Alex picks a fight with Zane Morgan purely on impulse, goes after the man partly because he despises him and partly because he’s just in the mood to pound someone’s goddamn face in. He has never been a very kind person, and if his job as sheriff has done anything, it’s only made him more confrontational and less inclined to take other people’s shit - especially when it’s someone as pompous and irrelevant as Zane.

 

His knuckles are still throbbing when he pulls up to the Bates Motel later, his humble abode for the next few months. He slips out of his truck wordlessly and beelines for the ice box outside, knowing he doesn’t have long before Norma realizes he’s here and comes out to pester him. She’ll have a heyday with his face if she sees it. 

 

Between doing his laundry without his permission and badgering him whenever she gets the chance, he knows she’s gunning to break down his walls and slip in between the cracks to discover the man he truly is. 

 

(He acts like he minds. Really, though, he wants it just as much as she does.)

 

Just as he’s heading towards his door, a block of ice clutched carefully in his sore hands, Norma appears. She’s instantly on DEFCON 1, rushing over to him and inspecting his injury with worried yet unsurprised eyes. He fights her when she offers to clean it up, but deep down, he knows it’s in vain.

 

He curses under his breath as he follows her up the steps and into her home.

 

His guard is up the moment they step inside. He is very much an intruder here, and the realization only grows on him as he takes in little details of the house, knick-knacks on the mantle and photographs in picture frames on the wall. Most are of Norman and his mother, from his infancy all the way up to the present. None are of Dylan.

 

Alex inadvertently clenches his fists under the table as she patches him up. It’s a coping mechanism more than anything else, and as she reaches out to hesitantly touch his battered forehead, he knows she can feel how tense he is. He takes a deep breath and struggles to relax his taut muscles.

 

But in the end,  _ she  _ is the one that calms him down. She makes some not-so-innocent quip about wailing on her realtor, and suddenly, a smile graces his lips and his eyes soften. Maybe it’s because what she says is so honest, so relatable. 

 

Maybe it’s just because he needs some sort of release.

 

It is the first moment he has felt truly calm in months, but like all good things, it does not last. As soon as she’s finished Alex gets up and excuses himself, citing a work-related call as his reason for departing so abruptly. Norma smiles and nods, but the look in her eyes tells him she knows what truly is going on.

 

He thinks he sees disappointment gleaming in those bright blue orbs of hers as he heads for the door.

 

(It’s probably just his own reflection.)

 

**two.**

 

The second time Norma patches him up, the circumstances are slightly different. It goes like this:

 

Alex stops by the local bar after work to grab a drink and let off some steam. Things have been so difficult lately, with wrapping up the drug trade and worrying about reelection and dealing with bitchy DEA agents breathing down his neck, waiting for him to make a wrong move. He goes to the bar to relax, if only for a few minutes.

 

Instead, he gets his ass handed to him by bitter ex-drug dealers.

 

At first he has the upper hand, delivering a swift but painful blow to the man’s abdomen as they square up in the bar’s parking lot. Alex steps over the man’s body in disgust as soon as he’s down and heads towards his vehicle. But then three other men step out of the bar, looking just as pathetic and angry as the one on the floor, and Alex realizes he’s screwed.

 

It’s okay. He probably deserved it.

 

By the time he shows up at the motel, he’s sporting a nasty wound on his cheekbone and a split lip. His chest is tight with a mixture of pain and anger. 

 

It’s one of his last nights with the Bates’ before his house is remodeled and refurbished, so when Norma rushes out of the office and immediately helps him toward his room, he considers it some sort of parting gift. At any rate, he’s more inclined to let her help him than he was the last time this happened. He blames it on the searing pain in his side.

 

“God, you look like you just got hit by a bus,” Norma mutters as she sets him up in the bathroom and pulls out the first aid kit she’d brought from the office. He sits on the counter, perched precariously beside the sink, and rolls his eyes impatiently at her comment.

 

“Well, I  _ feel  _ like I just got hit by a bus,” he mutters, trying not to flinch as she reaches out to clean his lip.

 

Norma huffs at his expression. “If you don’t want my help, 007, just say so. I’ve got two other boys upstairs that need me to hold their hands and fix their problems for them. The last thing I need is another one.”

 

Alex shuts up then. It’s not like he has much of a choice.

 

A few minutes pass. Norma works diligently during the silence, using all the proper equipment to clean him up, her movements surprisingly soft and tender as she handles him. In a moment of weakness, Alex allows his eyes to flutter shut as he takes in the feeling of her fingers brushing against his stubbled jaw.

 

When he opens them again, Norma is smirking slightly.

 

“Do you  _ enjoy  _ getting in fights like this?” she asks after a while, shaking her head as she chastises him. “You’re just like Dylan. I swear, when he was a boy, he’d come home with a new bruise every day. His teachers hated him for it. He must have fought every kid in his middle school.”

 

Alex can’t help but resent being juxtaposed with an angry child, but he allows her to make the comparison, knowing he owes her for what she’s doing right now. In truth, it’s oddly comforting. He hasn’t been taken care of like this in years.

 

“It’s nothing. Just a bunch of guys that are bitter because the drug trade’s over.” He sighs wearily. “I can’t really blame them though, you know? I mean, they’re out a job.”

 

Norma pauses for a moment, studying him. “That isn’t your fault, Alex.”

 

Alex appreciates her words, but he is a realist. He always has been. “Yes, it is.”

 

Norma doesn’t argue with that. Instead she finishes up her work, nimble fingers tending to the most damaged parts of his face before quickly cleaning up. Within a few minutes, they’re stepping out of the bathroom and into the doorway of his motel room.

 

“You need me to tuck you in too, Sheriff?” There’s a smirk on her lips and a lightness in her voice. “I don’t mind.”

 

Alex laughs. It’s unexpected and the sound is foreign to him. But Norma doesn’t look surprised. 

 

“No, thanks,” he says curtly, giving her a gentle nod. Norma smiles and glances around the room, taking in the clothes strewn across the floor and the files stacked on the bedside table, before turning to go. Alex makes a mental note to take a day off to clean this place up before he leaves for good.

 

Just as Norma steps outside, her fingers wrapped firmly around the doorknob, Alex takes a step forward and stops her. “Norma?”

 

She pauses. “Yes?”

 

“Uh, I just wanted to say thank you. For everything.”

 

Norma smiles. Again, she does not look surprised.

 

**three.**

 

He does not want to make a habit of looking to Norma to fix his problems.

 

The thought surfaces urgently in Alex’s mind even as he stumbles up the cement steps that lead to the Bates’ front door, clutching his jaw painfully to keep the blood from dripping down his neck and seeping into the fabric of his shirt any more than it already has. It’s much worse this time, something Alex is acutely aware of - worse enough that he could probably take these injuries to the InstaCare and have the nurses there fix him up with less trouble than it would take Norma. But Alex is too prideful for hospital visits, and anyway, part of him craves for the feeling that washed over him when Norma had taken care of him last time.

 

A gasp falls from Norma’s lips when she opens the door and sees Alex standing there, scraped and bruised and covered in blood. But instead of asking questions, she just shakes her head and pulls him inside.

 

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out as she leads him up the stairs, their destination most likely the bathroom. “It’s not that bad, but I… I didn’t think I could clean it up myself…” Alex’s words are cut off as he twists uncomfortably and is met with a sharp sting of pain, causing him to gasp loudly.

 

“‘It’s not that bad’?” Norma echoes, pushing him into the bathroom and closing the door behind them. “Goddammit, Alex,  _ look  _ at yourself!” She turns him toward the mirror and Alex sighs, not wanting to see his disheveled appearance but looking up nonetheless. 

 

His lip is split again, the cuts on his forehead are not at all unsurprising, and the bruise under his eye is something he has seen before. He can only imagine what is going on beneath his blood-soaked shirt. Judging by the searing pain in his abdomen, it can’t be very good.

 

Norma reaches into a cabinet for a first aid kit, but when she turns back around and takes in his clothes, ruined from the mixture of blood and rain water soaked into them, she shakes her head and sets the kit aside. “Get undressed.”

 

Alex blanches. “W-What?”

 

But Norma is in no mood for games. “I’m putting you in the bath, dumbass,” she hisses, sauntering over to the claw-foot tub against the wall and turning on the hot water. “I’m not going to let you get blood all over this floor. I just mopped yesterday.”

 

Alex remains still for a few moments, clutching the side of his face pathetically and eyeing her suspiciously, before hesitantly slipping his jacket off his broad shoulders. This is what he wanted, right?

 

He reaches for his shirt next, his movements slow and deliberate as he tugs at the hem and tries to pull the article of clothing over his head, muscles screaming with pain and exhaustion. An agonizing grunt falls from his lips as he struggles to take the shirt off, but before he can finish the task, Norma is there helping him.

 

His skin flushes at the feeling of her hands on his chest. Norma shoots him a look and moves for the next article of clothing. 

 

By the time he is fully undressed, the tub is full and the water is ready. Alex winces as he steps into the steaming bath, keeping a deathly grip on the edge to keep himself from slipping. A sigh inadvertently escapes his lips as he sinks in up to his shoulders.

 

“Is Norman here?” he croaks, tone riddled with worry, as Norma walks over to the tub and kneels beside it. She shakes her head.

 

“No. He’s out with a friend. Do you honestly think I’d let you strip in my bathroom if my son was in the other room?”

 

Alex huffs, but even the slight movement of his chest brings him pain. “This was your idea.”

 

“You showing up on my doorstep, bloody and broken? No, I don’t remember that being my idea.”

 

“That- That’s not what I meant.” Alex sighs again, only this time it is from exasperation. It was a mistake to come here. “If you want me to go, I can,” he says quietly, even as he sinks deeper into the water, his muscles loosening as warmness seeps into his tired body and slowly relaxes him.

 

“That’s not an option,” Norma responds, reaching into the cupboard to grab a rag. “And anyway, no, I don’t want you to.”

 

Her words bring an unexpected rush of relief over him. He is wanted here. It means more than anything else, more than his uncertainty or the pain wreaking havoc on his body.

 

They fall into a comfortable silence then, and Alex tries not to wince as Norma dips the washcloth in the water and gently drags it across his shoulders, washing away some of the dried blood caked to his skin. 

 

He isn’t sure if it’s the bruises that make him sensitive or the intimacy of the gesture. Either way, he isn’t complaining.

 

There’s something terrifying about being exposed to Norma like this, not just literally but figuratively, too. The last person he had been this open with was his mother, and she hasn’t been with him for years. When she’d died, he’d vowed to never love someone the way he did her. 

 

He had always intended to keep that promise to her, but as he glances over at Norma and watches her tend to his defeated body and broken spirit, he wonders if he will truly be able to.

 

Alex closes his eyes as she washes him, her gentle movements moving south to clean his upper chest. The pain is still there, sharp and agonizing, but it no longer threatens to overtake him. With every gentle stroke, Norma dispels the worst of it.

 

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” she says after a few moments, bright blue eyes shifting to look over at him. Alex hums softly but does not respond. “You’re an idiot for getting yourself into these messes, for making me fix you up afterward. For scaring me like this.” 

 

His eyes open then, his mind instantly alert at her confession that she had been afraid. But before he can speak, she continues.

 

“I hate worrying about you like this. And I know it isn’t my place, and that’s why you put yourself on the line all the time - because you think you don’t have anyone at home to be afraid for you.” She pauses then, and Alex feels his heart grow heavy. “But you do. You have me, okay? And when you do things like this, it  _ terrifies  _ me.”

 

The sincerity in Norma’s voice is both comforting and frightening. He looks over at her then, forcing himself not to falter when her sad, wet eyes meet his, blue bleeding into brown before he has the chance to stop it. He does not want her to be afraid. He has spent the last few years of his life doing everything to prevent that; he’s taken out criminals, shielded her from as much as possible, gotten himself into God knows how many messes just to make sure she would be able to sleep easier at night.

 

It makes him sick to know that  _ he  _ is the reason for her fear.

 

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, voice barely audible despite how close they are. He’s consciously aware of it, now, their proximity, and without trying to think too much he reaches out and wraps gentle fingers around her wrist. He feels Norma tense ever so slightly underneath his grip, as soft as it is, but she does not pull away.

 

He closes his eyes as he brings her hand to his mouth and presses a gentle kiss to her palm.

 

At first Norma is silent. Alex takes that as a good sign. Moments pass as his lips hover beside her skin, too scared to kiss her again but too desperate to pull away. In the back of his mind he wonders if this is the closest he will ever get to her, if one chaste kiss in a moment of weakness is all he will have. The thought makes his heart ache, but he refuses to dwell on it. 

 

If this is all he gets, it will be enough. It’s better than nothing.

 

Just when he expects Norma to pull away, he feels her other hand gently move to rest on the back of his neck. Nimble fingers slide into his hair and a sigh escapes his lips. Another person’s touch hasn’t meant this much to him in years - maybe ever. It’s like some kind of lifeline.

 

He knows he is not fully awake right now, having succumbed to the overwhelming pain in his chest and in his head and in his heart a long time ago. But he is still totally in control of his actions, of his feelings. He does not regret this. How could he, when it’s all he’s wanted for months now?

 

“You’re beautiful,” he mumbles suddenly, because he is stuck on her already and doesn’t know what else to say, how else to let go. The last time he allowed those words to fall from his lips, she had dismissed them as nothing more than drunk ramblings, a sad attempt to get her to stay. But they were true then, and they are true now.

 

“So are you,” Norma responds, smirking slightly. Alex doesn’t know how she could ever find beauty in him, especially right now, with bruises and cuts littered across his exhausted body. He has never used the word ‘beautiful’ to describe himself. But when it falls from her lips, soft and sincere, he believes it.

 

His fingers are still wrapped around her wrist, her hand still cradling the back of his head. Somehow they both use the position as leverage as they come together.

 

When she kisses him, she does not meet his lips with the ferocity he had always anticipated. He’d expected their first kiss to be fervent, the climax of some vicious fight or heated moment between them. But it’s not. It’s emotional in a different way - in a  _ better  _ way, even.

 

Norma holds him close, supporting him with a touch so gentle he feels as if he might break. It occurs to Alex then that he is utterly weak, more so in this moment than he has ever been before. But somehow he does not feel vulnerable. If anything, he feels  _ strong _ .

 

When they pull away, Alex realizes his hand, still holding hers, is trembling slightly. He glances down at his shaking fingers and lets go of her wrist, opting instead to tightly grip the side of the tub. It’s too much. He is exhausted, body too weary to process anything but his throbbing pain.

 

Norma must sense it, because when he opens his mouth to speak - to explain everything to her, why he is here and why he is shaking and why he is just as terrified as she is - she shakes her head and shuts him down.

 

“No,” she says softly, the hand in his hair coming around to gently brush against his cheek. “It’s okay.”

 

Alex hesitates for a few moments, but eventually another wave of exhaustion hits him and his eyes flutter shut again.

 

The rest of the night is something like a dream. He is vaguely aware of getting out of the tub and dressing stiffly in clothes that are not is, and if he thinks back hard enough, he remembers sitting obediently as Norma tends to the wounds on his face and upper chest. He has a fuzzy memory of being led into his old motel room and helped under the covers before passing out. 

 

It’s the best sleep he’s had in years.

 

When he wakes, the sun is just beginning to rise over the forest outskirts of White Pine Bay. A sliver of light filters in through the blinds as he stirs, feeling groggy but at the same time as alert as he’d been twenty years ago, when he was young and eager and hopeful for the future. There is a new energy in his muscles despite their soreness.

 

When he stumbles out of bed and into the bathroom, he finds a piece of paper folded up daintily on the counter. He unfolds it carefully and smiles softly at Norma’s slanted, sweeping cursive spilled across the page.

 

_ You’re still an idiot for getting hurt like that, but I don’t fault you for it. Someone has to keep this godforsaken town in check. _

 

_ Just - the next time you show up half-dead on my doorstep, maybe bring some flowers? It’s polite. You could work on your manners. _

 

_ Norma _

**Author's Note:**

> I've been dying to write a cowboy/wild west AU for a long time now (I'm a hardcore red dead redemption fan), and if anyone will read it, I'd love to do it with bates motel. is that something you all would be interested in? it would be normero centric, of course, but multi-chapter with plenty of other characters included. 
> 
> if anyone is even the slightest bit willing to read it, please let me know. it's different, but I think it could be good.


End file.
